Sweet Smoke and Spun Glass
by prettyflour
Summary: Looking past Alice, I see someone I hadn't noticed before. He takes my breath away.  He's in the back seat, sitting criss-cross applesauce, long dreadlocks covering half his face. He is beautiful. He's also caught me staring. AH.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer****: ****Twilight ****belongs ****to ****Stephanie ****Meyer****. ****Tragic****, ****but ****true****. *****snorts***** ****But ****Dreadward ****is ****mine****. ****Just ****sayin****...**

I have to take a moment to thank the lovey ladies** NKubie and kikki7 **for their awesome pre-reading and my beta **Vintagejgc.**

Oh! And please check my blog to see the fantastic banner made by the awesome TwistedLea. She absolutely rocked it!

This was inspired by NKubie and her 'wards. *giggling* She has a little fic called Searching For The Right Wards. Go show her some love!

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**Sweet ****Smoke ****and ****Spun ****Glass**

Summertime started with a bus ride. It's moving slowly, a humid breeze floating in through the widows, exhaust and patchouli filling the air. The passengers are a mixed bag, some friends, and some strangers- all mellow, all high. We all came together to escape the concrete jungle, to get away from the city for a while. We're heading to an artists' commune on the Quileute Reservation.

Bloodshot eyes and silly smiles, we pass a jay around and ramble about everything and nothing at all.

"I want to see trees, big fucking trees that I can climb." Carlisle takes a hit and holds it in, tilting his head back before turning to his girl, Esme. She leans in like she's going to kiss him but her lips just hover over his before he exhales.

The smoke moves like a ghost from his mouth to hers before she kisses him lightly, pulling back and very slowly dragging a finger along his jaw. They stare at each other, smiling big and goofy, and then he reaches out and slides his finger across her bottom lip. Esme traces his eyebrows as Carlisle runs his finger over the shell of her ear. Esme's hands are in his hair scratching and massaging his scalp. Her touch is soft and slow, his reaction is to stare at her in adoration.

It's intense, so intense that I feel as though I shouldn't be watching this… this intimate moment between them.

Love.

It's so…_there__._

So fucking obvious.

The way they look at each other makes me smile, blissing me out in a contact high.

Carlisle and Esme are beautiful together. She ruffs his sandy blond hair and they both laugh. When he touches her, she shivers. When she smiles, he lets out the quietest contented sigh and his eyes sparkle. Love for sure.

I retreat, letting Esme and Carlisle sit low in their seats, whispering, giggling, loving. I sink down, smoke a bowl and listen as Alice and Leah sing along with the radio.

I lean back and reach my arms up, stretching. I turn around, smirking at Leah as she shimmies in her seat, singing off key and not caring who stares.

Looking past her, I see someone I hadn't noticed before. He takes my breath away. He's in the back seat, sitting criss-cross applesauce, long dreadlocks covering half his face, his brow slightly furrowed as he rolls a joint. His fingers seem to glide over the herb and paper; back and forth he moves his fingers across, smoothing it, rolling until it's perfect. He grins, looking proud of his work, and I bite my lip, smiling. I watch as he pushes his hair away from his face, flexing his forearms and biceps and I'm mesmerized. His dreads are an auburn color and long, past his shoulders; such a contrast to his pale skin.

My eyes roam his body, unabashedly staring and putting me in a trance.

He is_… __beautiful__. _

When I look at his face again, I meet his eyes. He's caught me staring.

I stop breathing. I stare right back. I should be blushing but I'm not. We are locked in this moment; his green eyes are so bright and so…_everything__._ Soft and warm, comforting and accepting, sparking in amusement as he raises his brow. He holds the joint out as an offering and his brow rises even higher.

Okay, _now_ I'm blushing. Heat is pulsating through my entire body as I rise from my seat and make my way to the back.

There is one long seat spanning the width of the bus and I sit next to him and cross my legs just like his. He doesn't say anything, just lights it up and takes a small puff before handing it to me. He looks away, brow furrowed again, but a small smile on his lips.

I take it, lift it to my lips and inhale deeply.

He looks up at me then, those eyes of his piercing and enchanting.

I realize that I _want_ him. I want him like I've never wanted anyone else. I know it's crazy, I've just met him, and I don't even know his name, but I can't deny this… this _feeling__._ There is this connection between us and I think he feels it too.

His eyes are all over me. Looking at my body he licks his lips and a thrill shoots through me. When he meets my gaze… I am spun- kind of dizzy and I want to touch him. I want his hands to ground me.

_God__…_ The way he's looking at me... It's the way Carlisle was looking at Esme.

I think of everything at once. I just graduated college- a heady sense of liberation and freedom fills me. This whole trip is supposed to be a statement of how I want to live, to get the hell out of California and just _live_ for a while. I vowed to step outside my shy tendencies, to take chances. Right now I want to take that chance. I want to act on this pressing urge to touch him. I've never wanted to touch someone this badly.

He's so different from anyone I've ever liked. He doesn't look like a boy, he looks a like a man. Rugged and scruffy, scarred and tattooed; waves colored in sea-foam green rush up his forearms, curling and reaching up behind the sleeves of his shirt.

I want to see him. All of him, every patch of ink drilled into his skin.

I want to strip down and show him all of me. My body is untouched by scars or ink, so plain compared to his. I want him to paint me with his breath, his lips, his tongue. My chest is heavy now, burning and begging me to exhale, but I don't, not yet. I steel my resolve and lean over, watching his reaction as my lips hover over his.

When he leans in and parts his lips, I exhale in a rush.

Suddenly his lips are on mine, soft and insistent. The smoke lingers like curtains around us and I am lost.

Somehow my hands are now on his shoulders and his are cupping my face, angling me so that he can kiss me deeper. His tongue swirls around mine and I gasp, shivering as his hands caress my face, my neck, my collar bone.

My body is buzzing, nerve endings alight as I slide my hand to the back of his neck and pull him closer. It's all moving so fast but in slow motion. How I came to be straddling his lap, I'm not sure, but _I __love __it__. _I love the simple feel of him, his hands rubbing circles on my back, his lips pressing gentle kisses to the corner of my mouth, his dreads as they tickle my face.

Everything feels so _good__._

When he pulls away, I grip the back of his shirt tightly. I don't want to let go.

His eyes are on mine, a lazy smile blooming on his lips.

"Hi," he says his chest rising and falling so fast. I can feel his heart pounding as I press my hand to his chest.

"Hi," I say and my heart is racing too.

I slide my hand down and touch his arm where the sea-foam green starts and I trace the wave as far as I can, my fingers wandering up the sleeve of his shirt. He laughs lightly and pushes the sleeve up as high as it will go. The water turns from blue to violet and striking green, swirling patterns adorn his skin and it's like nothing I've ever seen.

"I love this," I say, fingers exploring, touching the art branded onto his skin. He murmurs a quiet thank you and I take his other arm. The waves on this one are done in crimson and black. It has a macabre feel to it but it's just as beautiful as the other. This one is a bit more intricate, the waves fierce and raging.

"I love it too." My head pops up at the sound of Alice's voice. She sits herself right down next to us and gives me a silly yet knowing grin. She giggles when I blush and _I __am_ blushing. Heat rushes my cheeks as I slowly push away from him and I suddenly find Alice's laughter to be infectious. Apparently he does too because before long we're all laughing and Alice is slapping my arm playfully.

"Bella! Aren't you going to introduce me to your new friend here?"

"Oh," I say because I'm in a daze, still a little breathless from all the kissing and laughing. I look at him- his green eyes heavy lidded but amused.

"I'm Edward," he says softly and he's still staring at me, neither one of us looking away.

Alice is silent for a moment. "Edward and Bella…" she says and I love the way our names sound together, each syllable falling into the perfect cadence.

Taking the joint I had discarded, she lights it up, inhales and gives a slow shake of her head. She holds up the jay, offering it to me and I look away, breaking the spell. I shift in Edward's lap, unsure if I should stay or move. He slides his hand along the small of my back and around my hip, guiding my body as I move to the side. I'm still in his lap, his arm draped around me but now I can look at Alice too.

We smoke, slipping away into a stupefied high, and Alice talks a mile-a-minute, every once in a while bursting into song. She sings obnoxiously loud with Leah and we laugh; I laugh so fucking hard that I can't breathe.

When Edward laughs it's low and deep. We're so close that I can _feel_ it vibrating through his chest. I've never been a touchy-feely kind of girl, but I love being this close to him, love that he's always touching me. Alice claims she has the munchies and then she's up and in search of food, but I know better. I saw her not-so-chalant wink.

She approves and leaves us to our own devices.

Our words come easy, our touches lighter as we spend time talking. And I _adore_ talking with Edward. As physically attractive as I find him to be, I'm learning that he is so much more than that. I love the way his eyes light up when he speaks about something he's passionate about, and we share lots of common interests. It's great to talk to someone who shares my love for art and music, someone who relishes using his hands to create.

He's teases me about being barefoot and runs his finger along the bottom of my foot every once in a while, causing me to break out into a fit of giggles every time.

He has a subdued confidence about him that I find completely irresistible. We're laid back as we talk and every once in a while there are moments of silence that aren't awkward at all- moments that turn into heavy stares and hot stolen kisses. My eyes traverse of every inch of him, my fingertips scout and discover where he's rough and where he's smooth. He hums when I touch him, he breathes a little faster too. When we talk, it's questions and answers, stories and memories wrapped up in a sweet smoke. It's almost odd how comfortable I am with him, how I feel like I could tell him anything after knowing him for such a short time.

And time flies when he's near me, hours in his company pass in a _rush__-__rush_ blur and before I know it, the bus stops. We are hand in hand.

When I step off the stairs, the sun hits my face and I breathe deeply. It's not California sun, not crazy hot and stifling. The breeze isn't humid, it's cool, but when Edward's thumb brushes against my cheek, I'm hot all over.

"Edward!" Someone shouts from behind us and we disconnect.

With a sly grin Edward chuckles and says, "Seth."

He extends his hand but Seth scoffs and pulls him into a hug, clapping his hand hard on Edward's back.

"Shit, man, I'm so glad to see you. I didn't think you were coming this year." Seth says as he pulls away.

"The furnace fired up?" Edward asks and Seth rolls his eyes.

"Always," he responds and turns to look at me.

"Seth, this is Bella," Edward gestures toward me and I wave to his friend. Seth has long shaggy hair and a big goofy smile. The tank style top he wears shows his extensive ink- a black tribal piece that stretches over both of his arms. He's a big guy, towering over Edward, and yet I get a very mellow vibe from him. His eyes speak volumes; round, wide, and sugary sweet. I kind of want to hug him, so I do.

There are introductions all around, new unfamiliar faces mixed with the comfort of Alice and Leah.

"Fuck yes!" Carlisle shouts and then he's running, booking it towards the forest laden in giant trees and Esme is cheering him on as he tries to climb.

Edward's smile is super warm as he toys with my pinky finger. I lock my pinky around his and move a little closer.

"Find me later?" I ask, not wanting my time with him to end but I'm too excited about being here. I want to explore this place.

"How about I find you sooner? Give you a tour?"

"I'd like that."

I step away, he steps away, our hands together, our touch lingering until we're pulled apart; him by Seth, me by Alice. We walk in opposite directions and I can't stop myself from looking over my shoulder, watching as Edward and Seth disappear into the woods.

The Quileute Reservation is like another world. Everything is saturated in sage and umber, giant redwoods grow taller than sky scrapers and I decide right away that I'm going to like it here.

Alice, Leah and I get settled into our cabin- a place we share with four other artists who haven't arrived yet. I throw myself onto my bed and breathe deeply, waiting for Alice and Leah to pounce.

My girls lay beside me; both of them teasingly questioning me about Edward. I sigh then squee, twitter pated and heart locked, at peace but nervous at the thought of him.

Leah snorts and pokes my belly. "He's pretty cute, dreadlocks aside."

"Hey!" I poke her hard, twice. "I like the dreads. They suit him." It's something I never thought I'd find attractive. I've heard stories about dirty hippie boys with ratty, gross dreads but Edward's are just…_him__._ I've touched and smelled them, laughed as they tickled my face. They are soft but textured and they smell of him- a light musk, some kind of vanilla scented shampoo, a hint of pot, but clean.

Alice is quiet, a small smile gracing her pretty face. She shifts closer to me and gives a reassuring squeeze. "You two are ridiculously cute together and I agree with you about the dreads. On him, they work."

Leah protests with a groan and I laugh and throw a pillow at her head.

A soft knock startles us. Alice winks at me and runs for the door.

It's Edward and Seth.

They wait while we get ourselves together and then we walk, wandering on stone trails and well-worn foot paths. Seth, Alice and Leah take the lead while Edward and I slowly meander a few steps behind.

Spread out amongst the forest are large weathered barns- about a dozen of them, each one housing a different art space, all of them armed to the teeth with tools for a different trade. I meet so many people; see so much creativity, that it bleeds through the walls of each barn. The weathered façade of each building is deceiving. Beyond the cracked wood is varying forms of inspired art and I am so engrossed, so giddy that I am going to be a part of this.

The raw talent I am graced to be surrounded by is intimidating at first, but the people here are very down to earth. Their smiles are sincere and their enthusiasm is infectious, so unlike the pretentious art world in L.A.

Another thing that strikes me is how quiet it is here. As we walk from barn to barn, there is glorious silence only broken by our words and laughter.

It's a breeding ground for thought, for unfettered inspiration.

We explore for hours until our rumbling bellies demand attention. We follow Seth as he leads us to the kitchen and I'm just about to step into the door when Edward's hand tightens around mine.

"Take a walk with me?" He seems a little nervous, his brow crinkled.

My answer is a soft kiss upon his lips to which he smirks and leads me back to the woods. We talk as we walk, our hands swing and smiles blaze. I'm still sort of stunned at the ease of this place, of him, and of us.

His passion is glass. He chats animatedly about the things he makes and the things he loves, and I am so excited to see his work space. When he asks what I love, I respond with one word; art.

That tiny little word ignites my mind; loosens my tongue and I launch into an explanation on how I express myself. I tell him of my mom and how her finger painting 101 inspired me. I explain how a shortage of money forced me to think outside the box.

He's intrigued by my explanation of _found __art_. With little money to buy supplies, I'm used to going without or making my own. I forage junk yards, flea markets and occasionally the trash until I find something that catches my eye. I purposely choose things I think are ugly and then I use whatever I can to make them beautiful.

"We're here," he gestures to what I'm guessing is the glass furnace. The structure is much smaller than the others- half done in wood and half done in stone.

When I step forward Edward grabs my arm, pulls me back toward him. He gives me a smirk then a kiss on my temple. "I wanted to show you where I work, but maybe another time."

I frown a little, curious and confused. "Another time?"

"I can't believe I didn't think of this before," he laughs lightly, his gaze dropping to my feet. "You're barefoot."

I frown ever deeper. I can't go walking around a glass furnace with no shoes on! I groan at my own stupidity. "Shit, I'm so sorry. I didn't think..."

Edward's still smiling, his arms encircling me. "Well... I could carry you."

His eyes are playful as he pulls away, turning and crouching low before he says, "Hop on."

I don't hesitate. I love that he offers to carry me. The gesture is so sweet and it means that I'm close to him, touching him, smelling him. I love the fact that for the first time as an adult, I'm getting a piggy back ride.

I hold on tight and rest my chin on his shoulder as we head to the barn. There is a mess of shelves that line one side of the building holding works made of glass in a riot of bright colors. Edward points out Seth's pieces, showing me the telltale signs of a Seth Clearwater design. Seth has an affinity for darker colors but he always includes a swirl of periwinkle in every piece he makes.

He takes us through the door and I'm stunned by the heat inside. On the far side of the wall is the furnace or the hot end, as Edward calls it. It is filled with molten glass that looks like lava and I'm mesmerized by it. It's hard to imagine how this crazy hot oozing substance can become a delicate work of art and I am way anxious to see how it's done. I silently vow to always wear shoes from now on.

Edward places me down on the work space counter top, my feet swinging above the floor. He turns slowly and takes my right foot, his hand wrapping around it and guiding it around his hips as he steps between my legs, doing the same with my left foot until my legs are wrapped around him.

Suddenly it's sweltering in here and I can't focus on anything other than how close together our bodies are. His hands start at the top of my feet, slowly traveling around my calves then my knees, his fingertips brushing tenderly over the outside of my thighs. He leans into to kiss me and it is so sweet- tiny peppered kisses to my jaw. His lips press just below my ear and I slide my hand around his back and shudder as I feel his mouth on my neck, instinctively pulling him closer.

He holds me tight, his body _so_ close to mine- touching _everywhere_ but...it's all heart, like lust was pushed aside for something more. His lips hover; washing hot and heavy breaths on my skin. I feel over-sensitive and flushed. My mind stutters over how good this feels, how _right_ and at the same time, I am simply spun over how fast this is happening. I look at the ink on his arms, the vivid almost violent waves that crest and crash and I feel like that's us- a storm that came out of nowhere, fierce but beautiful.

My heart is beating fast again and his is too, I can feel it. We stay here hugging tight, wrapped up in each other and simply trying to take it all in and feel it out. Our words are few, our stares are constant, and our tickles, whispers and laughter ring out, intertwining in the silence that surrounds us here.

I think I love this boy.

I think I fall in love him over and over again every time our eyes meet.

**~O~**

This is the summer that I wanted to experience something new and exciting. This was supposed to be a time to journey, a time to discover, and here in La Push, I've done far more than that. The summer sun shimmers and shines, the pacific rain is far more present than I thought it would be but it never brings me down. It cools my heated skin, soaks my hair and I bask in it all.

Daytime brings my hands and mind to life with paint and clay. The smoky haze that was so prevalent on the bus ride here doesn't exist during the daylight hours. I like getting high, love the freedom I feel when floating, but when it comes to creating I want a clear head and steady hand. I'm over-the-moon delighted that Edward feels the same way. He never partakes in herb before he goes to the glass furnace, the red-orange magma glass commands respect and Edward gives it his full, sober attention. It makes me smile that he takes it seriously, that he cares about himself. It makes me light-heartedly giddy and it makes me swoon.

The dark of night is an entirely different scene. There is smoke, and there is a homemade moonshine that will light you up with one big red cup. It's a break from all the seriousness. It's beach bonfires and acoustic guitars. It's a time for chilling with my girls and my boy.

I sit with a blanket draped over my front, leaning back into Edward. Leah and Seth are next to us shoulder to shoulder while Leah sings her heart out. Alice is next to Leah, her eyes enraptured by the blond surfer boy who is playing guitar. That's her crush, Jasper. He's mellow and cool, like the opposite of Alice in every way but somehow they totally work, they balance each other out in a way that is just perfect.

Edward hits the blunt and leans into me, exhaling while I inhale his sweet shotgun smoke, holding it in and savoring it because it's been inside him. He passes it to Seth and then squeezes me tight, leaning in to kiss my cheek, my jaw, and my lips.

We stare into the driftwood flames of green and blue and I reflect on today- the last day of summer. We spent the morning fishing for fresh seafood and then Edward and Jasper spent hours making the best paella I have ever tasted. It was sunny today, not a single drop of rain to cool us so we went swimming instead. This afternoon the barns were not for creating, but showplaces, every wall filled to the brim with paintings and drawings, every table top littered with sculptures made of glass, clay, paper or metal. It was a treasure trove of color and composition, of special pieces out for display.

Meandering through the barns today was a trip, so many pieces made me smile, made me remember the artist or inspiration for the piece. Memories laced in good times looped around in my mind, especially when we toured the glass furnace. I studied all of Edward's pieces- even though I'd seen them all before, and I could spot all of Seth's work, a tiny periwinkle swirl hidden on every one.

It was also extremely fulfilling to see my own completed work, and I felt proud of what I'd done. I'd even managed to score two commissioned works. Among the residents that toured the barns were buyers; art lovers, collectors and designers. Two of them loved my chandelier-made from used plastic water bottles- so much they want to buy one.

I was blissfully high today, stupid-giddy-floating but not with sweet smoke, with spun glass and twinkling lights, tripping on the confidence that came in the form of accomplishment. Having vowed to devote my life to the art I love had been a hard decision. Many artists struggle to make a living and that was something of a concern after I graduated. Today, for the first time...I felt as though a path was forming- one that would shape my life.

Before I came here, aspirations for my future were so uncertain, wobbling in simple indecision. Coming to La Push changed my life, brought my hopes and dreams to a reachable place, somewhere tangible and within my grasp.

I fucking love it here. The thought of leaving makes my eyes water, makes my shoulders shake a little. For every moment, I have a precious memory and as I sit back, losing myself in recollections, I realize that so many of my thoughts revolve around Edward. From the moment I saw him in the back of the bus, I knew- _just __knew__-_ that he was it for me. He has taken this experience and brought it to a whole new level of wonderful, but for every time he's touched me, every time we've stolen kisses, we've never talked about what will happen once the summer ends.

I'm distracted by the sound of Alice and Jasper playing in the gentle surf. Seth and Leah are saying goodbyes and walking away hand in hand, leaving Edward and I left to gaze out over the water.

He kisses my shoulder, lips lingering and squeezes me.

I revel in the here and now, trying so hard to just enjoy it, to not think of tomorrow.

I close my eyes and feel tears stream down my cheeks. He releases me and I hold my breath only to exhale when I feel something cool on my chest. I look down to see a tear-drop shaped piece of glass attached to a thin black cord which Edward has draped around my neck. I lift it up, using the light of the fire to see.

It's clear glass, absolutely pristine, no bubbles, and no imperfections. Encapsulated inside is what looks like a wave of blood red smoke that criss-crosses and then loops around like the symbol for infinity.

Another tear falls and I wipe it away. I throw the blanket off and turn to face him, straddling him.

One look into his beautiful eyes and I smile and say, "I love you."

It's not the first time I've said it but somehow this is different. My voice is shaky, more rogue tears falling from my eyes. Looking him over I notice he has a matching necklace which I touch, I take it in my fist and squeeze it, wondering if mine is some sort of parting gift.

I meet his gaze and suck in a breath, shocked, stupefied. His watery eyes threaten to spill over and I am so fucking scared that this is it, our last night together.

He puts his hands on my cheeks, his thumbs wiping away my tears. "I love you too, so much."

When he kisses me it's soft and slow, it's pleasure and pain. His tears burn me, brand me, scar me. I can't stand to see him cry.

"I need you," he says, his voice desperate, his hands so needy as they run down my back and under my sundress. He grips me hard, pulling my body toward him and holding me there. I kiss him with everything I have, crushing my lips to his.

He responds in kind, his mouth hot and urgent, and his arms in an unbreakable hold around me. My head is spinning; my body suddenly ignites under his touch. He breaks away but only to take my discarded blanket and spread it out. I move to sit down and he stops me, kissing me deeply. He removes my dress and tosses it aside then kneels before me and removes my panties.

His arms wrap around me resting his head on my stomach. When he looks up at me I bite my lip, my emotions in complete upheaval. I need him too, so much that I can't speak. I feel like I should be nervous, completely bare on this beach but I'm not. Right now, I don't care if anyone sees us. I only care about making the most of this moment, of him. God, how I want him.

Sliding his hands around my hips, he kisses my belly button, his fingers slowly roaming with the lightest, most reverent touches.

I take his hand in mine and kiss his knuckles and the pad of his thumb. I kneel too, needing to see his eyes, wanting to sink into them and drown in the love I see there.

I fist his shirt and tug roughly, wanting it off _now_.

Shirtless, he looks at me with hungry eyes, lust radiating in his stare, _love_ leaking out of his every pore as he touches me. His rough fingertips wander my body and I arch into him, panting, shuddering.

"You are fucking beautiful," he says as he drags his palm across the swell of my breasts, his thumbs teasing my nipples, "and soft, you are so soft."

I run my fingers over his bicep, tracing the waves, memorizing every line, every burst of color. I kiss his chest and work my way up his neck as my fingers work his shorts down.

We are naked under a full moon sky, mouth to mouth in a kiss that will be burned into my memory. His lips slide over mine, gentle at first and then demanding. I clutch onto to him, gasping for breath in between kisses, and I can't let go of him, I can't.

He guides us down to the blanket without breaking our hold. When he tries to pull away, I protest, pulling on his shoulder. He kisses me in response, two very sweet, chaste kisses on my lips. His fingers slide down my stomach and in between my legs. _Oh__..._I throw my head back and he rubs me _there__._ He knows I can't resist his strong, talented hands.

I whimper at every caress, slip and slide into the rise and fall of his teasing fingers; gasp as he takes my nipple into this mouth, flicking it with his tongue.

Eyes squeezed shut, I shake and shiver; the world around me disappearing and I'm melting and exploding. My voice is ragged as I call his name and beg for more of him. I'm riding on the sublime feeling of his fingers moving deep inside me, curling, twisting. His other hand is on my breast, his teeth on my neck, biting hard enough to leave a mark and it turns me on, makes me wild, drives me crazy.

It's so intense that a scream erupts from my mouth, my hands reach for him, digging my nails into his shoulder_._ Skin on skin, sweaty and slick as he grinds up against me.

My chest is heaving, my body still shaking and Edward is looking down at me, his green eyes shining and playful; a little smug too.

I hiss when he slides his fingers slowly out then in again. Soft slow strokes, taking me down, building me back up. Then his fingers are replaced by his cock, hard and pressing up against my sex but not inside. He's taking it slow and it's maddening, but I love the way he is savoring this- the way he studies my every reaction, the way he works so hard to make me feel good.

He stares down at me for a beat and rocks his hips, sliding inside and I moan.

"Yesssss, I love this, love _you_. God, I love you." Words spill from my lips, honest and free- I let it all out.

"I need..." my voice breaks, memories of Edward ravage my mind and I say the only thing I can, "you. I need _you__,_ Edward."

He's staring down at me, his stare engaging, possessive.

"I want this..." he touches my face, takes my hand and kisses my pinkie finger, "to never end."

He thrusts hard but slow, circling his hips when he's as deep as he can go. "I want you by my side, _always__."_

"Yes," I pant out, my eyes heavy with unshed tears. I close my eyes and visions of _always_ tempt and taunt me. I can't imagine my life without him. Not anymore. It's like there is no Bella without Edward. He's become a part of who I am.

Letting out a big breath, he stills, buried in me, our bodies as close as we can get as he whispers. "I want to keep you forever."

He kisses my lips and swivels his hips, making me arch up into him, my hands sliding up into his hair.

He pulls away a bit, just enough for us to be able to look at each other again. There is something in his stare... an intensity that both chills and warms me. "I want to marry you, Bella, grow old with you, and teach our children how to paint."

My tears flow freely- not out of sadness, but out of pure fucking joy. I weep for his words, they break me, change me. I want all of that with him. _All_ of it. He's everything I've ever wanted and there isn't a doubt in my mind that I'm madly in love with him.

When I imagine my future, he _is_ what I see.

"Yes, Edward. Yes." My words come out breathlessly, I almost laugh because his words make me so fucking happy.

His hips start moving fast, his eyes on mine and the pure connection I feel to him is coursing through me, cutting into my heart, carving out a piece of my soul- just for him.

He's making these sounds...raw little whimpers as he buries his head into my neck and finds his release. I squeeze him so tightly, my hips rocking slowly to bring him down easy.

We hold each other; catching our breath, and he shifts and lays beside me. I put my hand on his chest and splay my fingers out, feeling his heart beating, just as fast as mine.

It all seems too perfect, surreal in this peace and love coursing through my entire being. He's staring at our hands, fingers intertwined, pinkies locked together. He lifts my mine and kisses it, his rough lips to my smooth palm. I curl my fingers around his jaw and scratch gently.

Edward loves to be scratched; he gives a sound that's like a purr and a whimper. He closes his eyes and leans toward me, into me and I pull him down into a kiss. I use both hands and cup his jaw, my nails gently raking across his skin. As we fall deeper, tongues laving and dancing, I slide my hands behind his ears, holding his head to mine. I want to anchor him here, with me- like this. I don't want him to ever let me go.

"Yes?" he asks all shy and cute, his heavy lidded eyes sparkling.

"Yes," I don't hesitate in my response, giving him a slow massaging scratch.

He presses his forehead to mine and blows out a great big breath. "I have been going crazy thinking that you would get on that bus tomorrow and I'd never see you again."

"Me too," I confess. "I was so scared..."

He kisses my temple and asks, "Stay here with me?"

My eyes go wide, unadulterated glee lights up my face and elation bubbling in my chest. "You're staying _here_?"

My mind whirls in possibilities. I imagine living here with Edward, spending my days immersed in this community- which I have come to cherish.

He nods. "I have an open invitation from Seth. His sister Rachel is moving to Hawaii next week, and he told me I could crash at her house. I know it was presumptuous, but I asked him if you could stay too, with me."

"Really?" I'm smiling so big my cheeks hurt. I'm blown away. I'm up in the clouds. Can this really be happening?

His smile is bigger than mine. "Yes," he whispers against my lips, his kiss so sweet, his excitement so evident that I squee and hug him, kiss, hold and love him.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!"

**O**

What did you think? Review and let me know?

I'm curious... Have you ever read a Dreadward before?

**Wanna ****fic ****rec****?**

**An ****Abridged ****Account ****by ****alchemilla****mollis****. **An Abridged Account of the Sexual History of Edward Cullen, as told to Bella Swan. Edward recounts a somewhat disastrous history of encounters with women through the 20th century, as Bella become more and more impatient to have an encounter of their own. Now complete!

Any Hunger Games fans around? Check out:

**KaKageGurl****- ****S**he's written a wonderful HG trilogy. Peeta's POV. A very imaginative author!


	2. First time

**Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephanie Meyer. Dreadward belongs to me.**

I have to take a moment to thank the lovey ladies** NKubie and kikki7 **for their awesome pre-reading and my beta **Vintagejgc. **

This was supposed to be a O/S but Dreadward and Artella thought you'd like to see some of their missing summer moments. I've got a few I'd like to share. I'll be updating every couple of weeks. Thanks so much for reading!

**Sweet Smoke and Spun Glass**

_**Their first time**_

Over my shoulder light spills through the window in a soft golden glow. It melts into a cool grey and I close my eyes and wait for it. The rain sounds in a slow pitter-patter on the roof, a gentle breeze caresses the bare skin of my arms. I shiver a little and press my hands around a mug of warm tea and turn to face the dim morning light.

It's early and I'm up before everyone else today. It nice having a moment to myself, watching the morning mist roll back toward the beach. I sip my tea and start working again, trying to find my groove in this new project I've started. I stare down at a bin filled with strips of plastic and wonder what the heck I'm going to do with them.

Used water bottles. I've stripped them of labels, cleaned and cut them up. Rings of clear plastic, varying in circumference lay at my fingertips and I pick up a few, bending them into different shapes. When the rain stops I hold one up to the window, the pale yellow of the morning sky streaming through. It reflects and refracts off the material, sending prisms of light scattering around. Tiny rainbows sparkles everywhere, and I decide that whatever I do, it has to include light.

I start working out a plan, the quiet stillness that can only be found at dawn helping me focus. By the time Alice graces me with her presence, I've already created a mold to shape the plastic and I'm trying out my first batch.

She sticks her hand in the bin of cut up plastic and runs her hand through it. "What is all this? Are these... the bottles?"

I laugh nervously. "Yeah, I'm going to make a hanging lamp out of them or a chandelier, I'm not sure which."

She looks over the mold, tapping her chin. "Too bad it's supposed to rain today. No sunshine... I think heat would be good."

I nod, it's a good suggestion but it's supposed to be rainy all week long. I grin when it occurs to me that there is in fact somewhere nice and hot that might be a great place to keep the molds. I thank Alice, slip on my shoes and head to the glass furnace.

Seth is there, standing outside re-arranging some shelves when I approach, toting a wagon with my molds. I explain what I'm doing and ask if I can store my molds inside, preferably near the hot end and he quickly agrees. Smirking he takes the molds from me and I follow him inside.

The sound of The XX puts me at ease, but the sight of Edward makes my pulse race, sending my heart aflutter. He's sitting on a work bench engrossed in his glass. In front of him is a tube that stretches across the length of the bench and it's rolling, controlled by a foot petal. At the end is a piece of bulbous glass that's a mixture of dark blue and white. He reaches down, his hand covered by a thick glove that he dunks in a pail of water that sits by his feet. Then he runs it across the hot-hot glass, kneading and sculpting.

He hasn't looked up since we entered, his eyes fixed on his work and I watch, fascinated at the way the glass moves beneath his hands. It gives way like taffy, slowly forming the subtle contours, and I could be mistaken, but I think he's maybe making a jar or a mug.

"How long are you going to keep these in?" Seth asks and Edward's head snaps up, his expression happily surprised.

I wave at him before answering. "I'm not sure. I figured that I would come back in about an hour and see how they're doing. I've never done this before, so it's going to be a matter of trial and error."

Seth places the molds on a shelf right next to furnace and wipes his brow, the heat on this side of the room intense.

"What are you making?"

I turn to find Edward walking toward us, his work bench abandoned for the moment. His hair is pulled back, a bandanna across his brow, and although he's a little sweaty he looks... sexy._ Jesus._ I mean,_ whoa..._ I've never met a man who affects me like he does. One look and he's totally distracted me. I seriously consider leaning over and licking him. If Seth wasn't standing right next to me, I probably would.

His eyes are on me, his brow furrowed in curiosity, and I suddenly remember that he asked me a question. I explain about the plastic and he nods thoughtfully and gives me a small smile.

"Good to see you wearing shoes today," he says, leaning over and nudging me with his shoulder.

I nudge him back and bite my lip resisting the urge to tell him that I've kept shoes with me at all times since the last time we came here and he had to carry me around.

"Have you considered just making this piece out of glass instead of plastic?" Seth asks and Edward's eyebrows shoot up and he smiles like he's just won the lottery.

The idea is tempting but I have a plan to carry out. "No, the whole idea is to find a use for the water bottles."

Edward's lower lip is sticking out in an adorable pout and I can't help but laugh at him. Seth snorts and winks at me.

"Besides," I nudge Edward again, a little more drawn out this time. "I don't know the first thing about glass. I'd have no idea what I was doing."

I look up at him, hoping like hell he'll take my hint. He looks at Seth and says, "Well then, we'll have to teach her, won't we?"

Except there was no_ we._ Seth conveniently disappeared and it's just Edward and me. He spends the entire morning walking me through the process and at first I'm overwhelmed by all of the foreign terminology. He's using words like gaffer, frit, and marver and I'm kind of lost on the lingo, but I take note of everything. It's so much more complicated than I imagined, but Edward is a phenomenal teacher. I'm guessing he's a bit of a perfectionist based on the detail he goes into, but it's a trait I find endearing. He wears his warm smile when he speaks, beaming with sincere pride and love for his craft. He's show and tell, putting tools in my hands to let me get the feel of them, and he is so patient with me. He engages my every question and I ask_ lots_ of questions.

I like what I'm learning, it makes we want to spend time here and not just to be with Edward. I want to do this, I want to learn more and the thought of him teaching me makes my need for him skyrocket. I crave his body on mine, his lips on my skin again. I want his words to inspire me, his hands on mine moving over a scalding masterpiece in the making.

In the afternoon we break for lunch and head to the kitchen. We munch on our sandwiches and chat with our friends. Conversation is light, talking shop, sharing stories and poking fun at Carlisle who fell out of a tree this morning and is now sporting one heck of a shiner.

Esme is holding an ice pack to his face and he's trying to shoo her away but she's having none of it. She presses it oh-so-gently to his face, her blue eyes full of concern.

"Hey," he says in almost a whisper, "I'm okay. It's just a black eye. A_ battle scar_." He winks and takes the pack- holding it in place as he eats.

I catch Edward looking at them too and smiling a little. I wonder if he sees what I see. Does he notice the way they look at each other or the way every touch between them ignites a spark? I wonder how he feels about me, exactly. Does he think about me as much as I think about him? In the two short weeks I've been here, I've seen him every day. Sometimes it's like this- in the company of our friends, here or at the beach bonfires. We've talked, held hands, kissed and touched but... nothing more.

I want him so badly and when he pulls away it drives me crazy. I haven't pushed the issue because I'm not the type of girl who throws herself at a boy. Sex isn't something I do with just anyone, but I want it with him, so much that it's hard to think straight sometimes. I mean... it's not like he lets me go after a heavy make-out session and runs for the door. He holds me, kisses me, and wishes me sweet dreams before he says goodnight. I probably should be thankful that he's such a gentleman, but I can't stop the way I feel, the way I want him like I do. I just get scared that he doesn't feel the same, even though I can_ feel_ how I effect him. When we're close and pressed up against each other, there is no doubt that he's turned on. What the hell is making him hold back?

I inhale sharply when his hand slides over my knee. I feel hot all over at his touch.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks, voice low enough for only me to hear.

I look down at my lap and curse my blush, close my eyes and breathe deeply, trying desperately not to shudder when his thumb moves slowly back and forth on my skin.

I give myself a few seconds before responding, trying to think about something else besides his hands on me in_ other_ places. "Nothing," I mumble, feeling out of sorts. I give him a small smile and push those smutty thoughts to the back of my mind.

He swallows and pulls his hand away. "You ready to head back?"

Once in the furnace, we put into action what he spent so much time teaching me this morning. We take it slow and steady and I find myself getting distracted from time to time by his arms, his eyes, his everything. I'm making a simple glass ball with little splotches of color throughout. I'm trying to shape it and I'm not sure what I'm doing wrong but it's not quite working.

"You've got to get_ the lean."_

I raise an eyebrow and he smirks before moving to stand behind me. He mirrors my stance, his arms behind mine, our fingers mingling.

"Begin," he murmurs and I grasp the blowtube, letting his hand guide me.

"I love this part," he whispers, our hands rolling the tube, cooling the near-molten glass. He continues to give whispered instructions, encouraging me in a hush. Reaching around me, he grabs a glove and slips it on my right hand and dunks it in water. I hold my breath as my hand touches down- the heat right_ there,_ radiating through the glove, but it's not over bearing. He makes me press harder and I squee when the glass shifts and takes the shape of my hand.

Edward chuckles and says, "Now, we lean."

His chest is gently pushing against my back and we lean forward. Suddenly I get it, the weight of my body helps me keep a firm hold, and as weird as it may sound, I can move more freely this way.

But...he's right behind me; I can feel his warm breath on my ear. I feel him against me and I have to work so hard to keep my focus on what I'm doing.

An hour later I stare at my lopsided ball and scowl at it.

"It came out good for your first try," he says, eyes playful, his grin silly.

I roll my eyes, thinking that it probably would have come out a whole lot better if I had been devoting my sole attention to it, rather than daydreaming about Edward for a good portion of the time.

"Maybe I should have Seth teach me," I tease but immediately regret my words.

His face falls, looking hurt and I feel so fucking stupid. I need to explain.

"I didn't mean it like that. It's just so hard to concentrate on this when you're so..." He steps back creating space between us and I don't like it. I hate that I offended him. I touch his bicep then squeeze it, digging my nails in a little to get his full attention. "I wouldn't want anyone else to teach me this. You were so great today, so patient with me; you're a wonderful teacher. I joked about Seth because when you're close to me... when you touch me..." I touch his other arm, run my fingers over the blue-green waves and tell him how I feel. "The only thing I can think about is how much I_ want you_. It's..." I giggle, "Incredibly distracting."

"You think about that a lot?" he asks and gone is the look of hurt replaced by a coy smile. "Is that what you were thinking about at lunch today?"

I might as well tell him. I'm sure my blush has given me away, anyhow. "Mmmm, I was thinking about your arms." I trail my finger around the sea-foam before I lean in and do exactly what I've wanted to do all day.

I trace the curl of a wave with the tip of my tongue and lick him long and slow.

I feel him shudder, taking a shaky breath and pulling me into a kiss. Lips urgent and hands roaming, he holds me close, his mouth insistent, his tongue wicked. I grind on him and he groans into my mouth and grinds right back, pushing hard against me and I fucking love it. I want more.

"I've wanted you since the first moment I saw you," he admits, lips at my neck, kissing, licking, biting and I push closer, wanting him to bite me hard enough that it marks me. "I think about you all the time, think about how it would feel to be inside you."

I whimper at his words, thrilled, elated to hear that he wants me. He kisses my lips soft and languid before he says, "I didn't want to take it too fast or freak you out but fuck, Bella, I've been walking around with a hard on for like two weeks. I can't stop thinking about you either and..." he pauses running a finger down my cheek, past my jaw, down to the swell of my breasts. "I don't want to hold back anymore."

"Then don't."

I'm breathless, worked up and unleashing two weeks' worth of sexual frustration. I don't want either of us holding back. Why should we?

We're both sweaty and panting, a delicious mixture of lust and adrenaline coursing through me. When he kisses me again it's fueled by anticipation. We're both acting needy, a little aggressive as we clutch onto each other.

"Not here," he whispers roughly, breaking our kiss and giving my bottom another firm squeeze before he slides those hands of his up my body until they find my cheeks. "Spend the night with me."

I take his hand lead him out the door.

We're walking really fast, both of us so anxious that we're practically running.

I stumble.

He catches me.

We laugh and kiss for a moment or _twelve._

We run the rest of the way.

When we tumble inside, we're laughing and out of breath and near frantic to get into his room. Behind closed doors our clothes seem to disappear, we're in his bed and his hands are everywhere._ God, his hands._ He touches me like he's working glass, his palms caress and press down, his fingers strong and unyielding as he explores my breasts and thighs before he touches my sex.

Our pace slows, he takes his time sucking on my nipples and kissing me, biting by bottom lip with just enough pressure to make me writhe. Beneath him I feel small and safe, worshipped as he refuses to stop touching me until I lose myself, arching into him, making noises I never thought I could be brave enough to make. Whimpers, moans, I can't help myself, it feels so fucking good that I can't be bothered to be quiet as I come on his fingers.

His lips are on my neck again, hot breath and slick tongue below my ear as his palm presses firmly between my legs. It's so much, almost too much and yet my body wants more. I roll my hips up without even meaning to.

"Yeah?" he asks, smiling into my shoulder. His hand starts moving again. "Right there?"

"_Ohhh,_ yes," I breathe out, feeling wanton, letting pleasure absolutely rule me. He strokes me relentlessly when he finds that spot, the one that makes my toes curl. Slipping a finger inside me, he groans when I clench around him.

He kneels between my thighs watching his fingers move in and out. When he meets my gaze, his eyes are hungry and heavy lidded- predatory as I spread my legs wide, silently begging for more. I can't find it in me to be modest- not with him. I take his touch and I revel in it because_ damn_ does it feel good.

"That is..._ God, Bella,_ that is hot. You are so beautiful right now. Fucking exquisite riding my fingers."

I push up on my elbows, wanting to see what he's doing to me but I'm absolutely distracted by his cock. He's so hard, thick and long and I want to touch it, taste it. I wanna give as good as I got and I have some catching up to do.

He hisses when I take him in my hand, moans when I start stroking, and lets out a string of curse words when I lick my palm twice, wanting him slippery under my fingers.

I pump him slowly, smiling as his fingers falter, and then he pulls his hands back to brace himself while I touch him. I use both hands to give him this, pick up the pace a little and feel triumphant when he starts thrusting into my hands.

He leans over to kiss me and reaches around to the night stand. He puts a condom in my hand. I don't hesitate to open it up and roll it over him, running my hand up and down his length to make sure it's on properly.

A sweet brush of his lips and he's guiding me onto my back, settling between my legs. Our eyes lock as he slides himself against me and I'm holding my breath. I think he is too.

We moan in unison when he finally takes me, pushing his cock inside me a little at a time. Each thrust harder than the last until we find a rhythm. Smooth and steady I rock my hips up into him.

He takes my hands and pins them to the bed, one on each side of my head. It's not a strong hold, sweeter when he intertwines his fingers with mine, pinkie fingers wrapped around each other's.

Sliding in slow he buries himself, swiveling his hips and hitting a spot that make me gasp. I squeeze his hands and he does it again and again.

We kiss, my lips blindly following his. I grunt and groan, he does too, and_ this_ is the best I've ever had. The way he's moving, trying to get me off,_ again_. I've never had such a generous lover.

Foreheads pressed together, breathing hard and deep, inhaling what he exhales, I whine his name, I say please and I don't even know what I'm begging for. Now that we're_ here_ and doing what we want, I can't hold back with anything. Noises unbidden spill from lips and it spurs him on.

He moves a little faster, plays with one of my nipples and bites my neck again. Sensations of wild pleasure course through me, I rock against him wanting faster, wanting to come while he's inside me.

"Don't stop," I plead even though he hasn't showed any signs of slowing. With one long thrust, a swivel of hips and his teeth around my nipple, I come. _Holy fuck_ do I come! I'm vocal, the loudest I've ever been and I swear it's involuntary.

I'm gasping for breath every time he pushes into me and it's faster now, he's frenzied, growling into my neck. I wrap my legs around and squeeze him, meeting him thrust for thrust, whispering, "I want to make you come so hard."

His hips jerk, mouth hanging open and eyes squeezed shut as he makes one last push then stills. I feel him pulse between my legs and I clench again.

"Fuck, _yessss."_ he hisses, "Oh, Bella, _Ah...Ah... God, _so good."

I stroke his jaw and his neck, kiss his shoulders as he comes down and finally collapses beside me. His strong arms pull me close and his lips land on my temple. We catch our breath; hold each other and he whispers, "Sweet dreams," moments before I drift away.

~O~

The light of morning is soft, rousing me gently. I feel Edward's fingertip gliding up the outside of my thigh and I peek my eyes open. He looks sleepy and sated, naked with ink blazing and I find myself wanting to lick him again.

"Good morning," he says pushing a stray lock of hair from my face.

"Morning," I reply then stretch my arms, reaching for the pale yellow light streaming through the window.

He moves to hover over me, giving me a playful smile.

"What?" I ask, curious to know what's causing his now devilish smirk.

"Did you know that you talk in your sleep?"

My eyes widen, my face now flushed, and I can't remember having any dreams, but all the memories from last night come rushing back.

"I just want to try something," he whispers, dipping low to nibble on my ear lobe. His fingers move from the outside of my thigh to the inside and when he touches my sex, I can't believe how wet I am.

What the hell was I dreaming about?

As if he's reading my mind, he answers, "You said my name."

His smile turns sweet, a bashful look in his eyes. "What else did I say?"

"You asked me to keep teaching you."

"I hope you said yes." I bite my bottom lip, looking into his bright green eyes.

He pauses, fingertips wandering my body and a beautiful smile lights up his face. "How could I say no, when you asked so nicely?"

"Did I say please?" I ask coyly, touching his chest.

He hums and leans in close. "Not when you asked me to teach you," his lips meet mine, our tongues touching tentatively, a fire rushing through my veins. "But you did when you asked me for _this_."

He slides his hands between my legs and _this_ is the best way to wake up.

~O~

Thanks again for reading. Please review! I'd love to hear from you.


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